Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
“Didn’t mean to.” His eyes fly open. “Oh, no. Mommy’s car. I didn’t mean to barf everywhere—”
“Hey, hey, shhhh. You were amazing, okay? I promise she’s not mad. Everyone’s so proud of you, little man.” I squeeze his hand. Salem hasn’t stirred, lost in her sleep over the whispers.
Fine.
I don’t want her to see me just yet.
I could use a little of his courage myself when I don’t want to face up to whatever our last conversation means.
“I don’t like the hospital.” Arlo wrinkles his nose. “It smells funny. Like before a bath with too much soap.”
“Yeah, these places are rough.”
“The bed feels hard too.”
“You’ll be back in your own bed soon,” I promise. “And once you’re better, I’ll take you somewhere warm and sunny, okay?”
His eyes light up, making him the most animated I’ve seen him so far today. “Like the beach? Do you think there will be dino shells?”
“Dino shells?”
“Like from dinosaurs.”
“Oh, you mean fossils?” I used to love dinosaurs when I was his age. Knowing Arlo loves them too makes me smile wider. “Sure. In fact, I bet I can bring you a dino shell soon. I can find you some real seashells too. How does that sound?”
“Awesome.” He yawns heavily.
This isn’t the time or place to tell Arlo I’m his dad, even though he’s still holding my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I’ve held Colt’s hand a few times over the years, mostly when he was younger, but this feels different.
The kind of right that only comes from your own flesh and blood.
Shit, I need to leave before I lose it, and before I change my mind about leaving at all.
Salem can take it from here as soon as she wakes up. I’m certain she’ll do a better job of looking after Arlo than I can. She’s been there for so many years.
“Maybe we can put them in my aquarium, huh?” I say. “I think the fish would like a fossil or two.”
“And the seahorses!” he whispers.
“Yeah, those guys too. But right now, I need you to do something for me, okay? I need you to focus on getting better and being good for your mom. You keep her company, Arlo.”
He frowns. “Where are you going?”
“Florida. Just for a few days,” I tell him, but he doesn’t look like he registers what I’ve said. His eyelids droop shut again, and he lets out another cat-like yawn. “I’ll be back real soon, okay?”
He doesn’t answer since he’s already out.
I give Salem one last glance and get up, beginning to walk away.
Only, I turn and retrace a few steps.
Gingerly, I rest my hands on her shoulders, kissing her on top of the head. She only stirs slightly without waking.
“Hold on, Lady Bug. I’m going to make sure no one ever tries to hurt Arlo again, and then I’ll come home and we’ll sort this out.”
25
DOWN TO THE WIRE (SALEM)
Incredibly, it only takes a couple days for Arlo to recover.
Two days of sitting by his side at the hospital in that endless bustle of muffled noises and claustrophobic disinfectant before he turns back into his normal chatty little self with puppy energy.
Two days of running through every single thing I could’ve done differently.
Two days of agonizing over Patton.
Every time I close my eyes, I see his face. The way he looked at me when I told him about my plans to strike out on my own—a plan that isn’t even a plan. A plan that I’ve slowly been researching as a parachute escape from all things Rory related.
A just-in-case backup I have little confidence I can actually make a reality.
God.
I didn’t think it was possible to screw up this bad, but I’ve done it. Maybe it’s not rotten luck that’s following me after all.
More like karma grabbing me by the throat and throwing me through the wall.
Delly Rory takes us back to her house from the hospital the day Arlo gets discharged.
“I insist, dear,” she says as I strap Arlo’s kid seat into her expensive white SUV. “I know how difficult these past few days have been for you.”
“Thank you so much for the food.” I stifle a yawn. “I don’t know how I’d have gotten by without it.”
“You’re welcome. And you should thank Junie, too. She’s the one who’s been cooking up a storm in our kitchen with a little help from her lovely grandmother.”
I drag my fingers over my eyes.
Junie. Another near-stranger whose kindness I don’t deserve. Clearly, none of them know about my fallout with Patton, even if I haven’t heard from him in days.
“I appreciate it. More than you’ll ever know,” I say as I climb into her passenger seat.
She tells stories about Patton as a kid all the way home, thinking they’ll entertain me.
And yeah, I’m amused when she tells me about the time four-year-old Patton ate crayons after Dexter convinced him they were candy. But she doesn’t know story time slowly carves more chunks out of my heart.